England -- Social life and customs -- 20th century -- Fiction; Husband and wife -- Fiction; Siblings -- Fiction
I put my arm through Fay's, drawing her nearer to me. "Then what on
earth do you want me to do, carry a pocket-mirror about with me, and
keep taking it out and admiring myself, like Narcissus, or else thrust
the sanguinary hand of my recent baronetcy into every stranger's face?"
"Oh, Reggie, what an idiot you are! Of course, I think it is perfectly
sweet of you not to have a swelled head because you are rich and landed
and a baronet and all that, and not to have a swelled head because it
is such an extremely good-looking one, with such regular features; I
thoroughly approve of that sort of humility, as I'm the last person in
the world to encourage swank; but what I do mean is that you have so
little confidence in yourself and your own powers that you stand on one
side and let other people do the things that you'd do a million times
better than they can. You are like that old Emperor who thought he
couldn't govern Europe, and so began to wind up the clock instead."
I smiled. "You've got hold of the wrong end of the stick this time,
milady; it was because Charles the Fifth was sick of the weight of
empire that he retired to a monastery and made clocks: and it was
considered a most swaggery thing at the time, and was tremendously
applauded by an admiring Europe, because he was just as good at
clockmaking as he was at ruling the world."
"What you might call a good all-round man."
"Precisely. Now I am the contrary of that. The experience of life has
taught me that I am equally inefficient in government and in
clockmaking--in short, that I am a thoroughgoing failure, and that
therefore my truest wisdom lies in getting other and superior people to
rule my empire and make my clocks."
I regret to record that at this point of the conversation Lady
Kingsnorth stood stock still in the middle of the road, and protruded
from between her scarlet lips the point of a little pink tongue, and
then remarked in terse if inelegant language: "You silly ass!"
I laughed. "Your ladyship ought to be ashamed of yourself," I said.
"On the contrary, my ladyship is ashamed of you! I wouldn't be as
great a goose as you are, Reggie, for ten thousand a year."
"It is about what I get for it," I murmured.
There was a pause whilst I opened a gate for our passing, and shut it
again, and then I said: "By the way, my own, it is your birthday this
week. What shall I get you for a present?"
Fay tripped beside me on the grass. She was very like a child in her
movements. "I've had such lovely wedding presents from you that I
really don't seem to have room for any more."
"Well, you must make room somehow. It would be against all my
principles to let so great an occasion as your birthday pass unwept,
unhonoured and unsung."
"I really couldn't make room for any more jewellery. I'm plastered
over with it already, like a rough-cast house." I had had all my
mother's diamonds reset for Fay, and had given her a string of pearls
on my own account.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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